


Absolutely, friend

by Rauz



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends in Love, F/F, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Relationship, coffee!verse, slow slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rauz/pseuds/Rauz
Summary: The next time Bernie's in need of a caffeine shot and a chat, she doesn't call Serena. She texts her.
Relationships: Serena Campbell & Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 39
Kudos: 149
Collections: The Final Countdown





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always felt this part of their relationship had never really been explored enough, so here we are.
> 
> This time, I was inspired by the 'coffee' prompt, from the Berena Final Countdown.
> 
> Thank you again to Bat_and_Breakfast.

_ “Silly to keep meeting up like this. Next time you need a caffeine shot and a chat, you should just call me.” _

The next time Bernie's in need of a caffeine shot and a chat, she doesn't call Serena. She texts her. After the whole debacle that was the revelation of her affair, and the disappointment that Serena felt at having been betrayed by someone she wanted so badly to be friends with, she feels it's more prudent. Like a white flag of sorts, entirely leaving the ball in Serena's court.

_ “I'd like to apologize to you properly. And explain. I'll even buy coffee.” _

Looking at the message for a few long seconds, she figures that even though she usually doesn't like to, begging Serena to accept her offer seems like a good idea.

_ “Please?” _

The messages stay unanswered for a good couple of hours. Whether by lack of time or because Serena needed to think about it and make her sweat a little in the meantime, Bernie doesn't know and doesn't care.

_ “I'm free now if you are.” _

The buzz of the text notification startles Bernie while she's working on patients' files and getting unbelievably bored in the process. The fact that she now has to talk to Serena makes her nervous, but she forges ahead.

“Great! Meet you in Pulses, I'll be right down.”

Taking a deep breath, Bernie gets up, stretches her back before grabbing her hoodie from the back of her chair and almost sprinting towards the staircase. Elevators are always too slow when you need to be somewhere fast.

Arriving in Pulses, barely out of breath, Bernie looks around and finds Serena waiting outside, elbows on the metal ramp, face up trying to drink in the few rays of the pale sun shining that day.

“Hey,” Bernie greets quietly, almost shyly, “how- how are you?”

Serena turns her head around and her response is, if not overtly hostile, at least guarded. Clearly, she's hurt and isn't about to make it easy for Bernie.

“Since three days ago, when I found out from a patient that you cheated on your husband you mean?” Serena asks, somewhat bitterly. She lets out a loud exhale right after that and seems to deflate a little. “Sorry, that was-”

“Deserved?”

“No, I have no business being mad at you really. I'm not- we're just colleagues, you don't owe me anything.”

At that Bernie looks even sadder.

“I thought we were friends.”

Serena looks away.

“I  _ want _ us to be friends, Serena,” Bernie asserts with more force, “very much so.”

She tries to catch Serena's eye, and when she does, she gives her a little smile.

“I promised you coffee. Strong and hot if I remember correctly?”

Serena only nods, her anger gone but the pain still there despite her earlier words.

  
  


A few minutes later, Bernie comes back with two big cups and a pain au chocolat. She indicates with a nod that Serena should follow her and they go sit on the bench in the peace garden. She hands one of the cups and the pain au chocolat to Serena.

“I thought we could share that, for a sweet and much needed sugar rush.”

“Thank you,” Serena smiles slightly.

Bernie takes a big sip of her coffee, feeling like she's gonna need that caffeine shot if she's to have the necessary strength to explain everything.

“Right. As I said in my text, I need to apologize to-”

“No!” Serena interrupts.

“Yes! Please, let me finish,” Bernie pleads, putting a gentle hand on Serena's forearm. “I should have been more forthcoming with you regarding the real reasons why my marriage was failing. The thing- uh- the thing is that I was still coming to- I  _ am _ still coming to terms with the fact that I am- well- gay.” Her voice breaks slightly on that last word. “And-”

“Oh Bernie,” Serena interrupts again, suddenly feeling bad about the way she behaved the other day. “I'm the one who's sorry now- I shouldn't have reacted that way. I shouldn't have let my own history cloud my judgement and- and-” she lets out a deep sigh and smiles at Bernie who looks at her through her fringe, “you're nothing like Edward, your situation is completely different. You didn't try to shag every living- and Lord knows why- willing thing under the sun just to satisfy your empty ego.”

“No, but I hurt my family. And I hurt you.”

Serena smiles one of her big bright smiles now.

“Well, I can't speak for your family, but I forgive you,” she says.

Bernie keeps looking at her for a few seconds, trying to decide if she really is lucky enough to have been forgiven, before finally, the force of Serena's smile and the affection that shines in her eyes makes her blush and hide behind her very handy fringe.

“Thank you,” she all but murmurs, “it means a lot to me.”

“You're welcome. And I'm sorry I made things even more difficult for you.”

“It's okay,” Bernie says with a small smile.

“It's very much not okay. Coming to terms with one's sexual orientation is- from what I’ve heard difficult enough without egos getting in the way.”

“Well, it's no easy feat when you've spent the better part of your life trying to hide it- erase it completely from your mind, I'll give you that. And it's- well- it's one of the things that makes me so...” she trails off, looking for the right word.

“Standoffish?” Serena supplies wryly.

That makes Bernie snort.

“Something like that, yes.”

“Jokes aside, it does makes sense. Of course you had to protect yourself. I'm only sad that you had to do it at all, that we live in a world like that.”

“It's better now.” Bernie shrugs.

“Well, thank God for that. I can't imagine- Well, never mind that,” she says with a reassuring smile. “So, who was that mysterious woman who changed your life?”

Serena turns towards her completely and Bernie lets out a small and somewhat uncomfortable laugh.

“Alex. Captain Alex Dawson, she's an anaesthetist in the RAMC. A damn good one too. And that's an unbiased opinion.”

“Ha, funny. Edward was an anaesthetist as well, and a really bad one at that.”

“You're kidding?” Bernie asks in disbelief.

“No, but that's a story for another time. So, Alex?”

Bernie refocuses, looking at the greenery in front of her trying to gather her thoughts.

“Well- um- we were friends before anything else, and then one day- I just looked at her and had- some kind of an 'oh shit' moment. I loved her. And not just in a friendly way,” she laughs, but this laugh is more pain than joy. “It terrified me. I avoided her for days after that, until she cornered me in what was supposed to pass as my office.”

At that, Serena makes a grimace of sympathy.

“She said she knew what was going on, that she felt the same thing. It was easier for her, she's almost fifteen years younger than me, there wasn't a ban on homosexuality anymore- and even though a relationship with a subordinate is very much not allowed, she wanted us to try. I denied everything, obviously.”

Serena slowly rubs Bernie's upper back. A universal gesture of comfort and understanding. Bernie looks down at the coffee cup she's still holding in her hands.

“I was married. Believe it or not, it meant something to me.”

“Of course I believe you,” Serena interjected.

“And I did- do care quite a lot about Marcus. He's a kind man.”

Serena has nothing to answer to this. Marcus hadn't impressed her all that much. He might be a good surgeon, and even a good father for all she knows, but in everything else, he seemed a bit average.

“It lasted all of two weeks. I barely slept. Barely ate. Played the good wife on the phone or in the letters and couldn't stop thinking about her. I was disgusted with myself- not for being gay mind you, although maybe- maybe indirectly, because it was the one thing that made me consider kissing Alex when I should only be thinking about kissing my husband.”

Serena's hand is still rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“And so, one day, I broke.”

Her eyes leave her cup to look at the pale blue sky and thin white clouds.

“It wasn't like in the movies.”

At that, Serena raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt Bernie.

“It wasn't the pressure of an awful day that made me crumble. We weren't surrounded by the sounds of gunshots or by dead bodies - for once - and we weren't trying to remember what it felt like to be alive in the middle of a war. Although, now that I think about it, there might have been a little bit of that involved,” Bernie sighs. “We were having a quiet moment, walking around our camp, laughing and talking. And suddenly I- I just- I had to kiss her.”

There she stops, remembering for a moment the smile on Alex’s face, the one that made here take the plunge, the one that made push her in the shade of one of the barracks and kiss her. Coming back to the present, she looks at Serena, fearing her reaction despite her assurance that she was forgiven.

“And?”

“And?” Bernie repeats with a cheeky glint in her eyes.

“I'm not asking for the raunchy details, you evil woman,” Serena answers, swatting Bernie's shoulder none too gently.

This time, Bernie's laugh is genuine. A spectacular honk that frees itself from Bernie's chest and surprises Serena making her laugh in turn.

“That's quite a laugh you've got there,” she says after she calmed down enough.

“Had it since my teenage years, I got used to it,” she answers, making Serena laugh again.

“So, were you happy? With Alex?”

“We had happy moments,” Bernie answers, shrugging, “when we were in our bubble, everything was perfect. But that didn't happen often.”

Serena nods in understanding. Being happy in a war zone must be close to impossible.

“And then there's the fact that I felt guilty every time we were together. Guilty for breaking my vows and for breaking the rules. Alex tried to tell me it was okay- that everything would be okay and I wanted to believe her so much. And then the IED happened- she saved my life and a few days later she dumped me, saying it wouldn't work.”

“What?”

Now Serena is confused.

“She gets you into bed and when you're home, healing from severe injuries, she tells you that it won't work after all? Really? What kind of idiot does that?”

Bernie looks at her colleague with raised eyebrows, surprised by her sudden outburst.

“I thought she was supposed to love you?”

“I didn't make it easy for her,” Bernie tries. “I was home yes, but that also meant I was back with my family.”

“So?” Serena asks, now really disappointed by that Alex woman. “If she really loved you, like she said she did, she would have fought for you.”

“Well then that shows you what she really felt for me,” Bernie answers with a sad smile.

That sudden sadness made Serena realise that she had made yet another mistake.

“I'm sorry Bernie,” she sighs, contrite. “I didn't mean to belittle your relationship or what it all means to you. I'm just sorry it ended the way it did. You deserve someone who loves you for who you are, finally.”

This time, Bernie's smile is small, but genuine.

“It's okay, I understand what you meant,” she reassures Serena, gently patting her left hand, the hand still holding the now almost empty cup of coffee. “Thank you. Thank you for listening.”

“It's what friends are for, Bernie.”

“So we're friends, then?”

“Yes we are. I get the feeling we'll be the best of friends,” Serena says with a winning smile.

“Good, I'm glad,” Bernie answers, also smiling.

That's the moment Serena's beeper chooses to make itself known.

“Well, I'm afraid it's the end of today's coffee chat,” she sighs ruefully when she sees that Hansen wants to talk to her.

They both get up and walk towards the Wyvern entry.

“Let's do that again shall we, friend?” Serena asks, reaching out a hand to Bernie.

“Absolutely, friend,” she smiles, shaking her colleague's hand.


	2. This moment feels too perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There always comes a moment when you need peace and quiet. And coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even like coffee ...
> 
> Thanks again to Bat_and_Breakfast!

Being able to rely on too little sleep and still be fit for work has always served Bernie well. Today in particular it has one advantage - the possibility of arriving two hours early under the pretense of making a dent in the mountain of admin waiting on her desk.

And see the woman that has very quickly become her best friend.

Of course Bernie would rather tell herself that she’s here for professional reasons, because the alternative is much too unnerving right now. She only just managed to find her feet again, to get used to this new life, both as a lesbian and a civilian doctor, and adding potentially falling in love to the equation feels unsettling. And probably stupid, when the recipient of said love is not only her friend, but also her colleague.

A colleague that gave her a trauma unit, but that's besides the point.

So here she is, in the corridor leading to AAU, and the sun hasn't even risen yet.

In fact, Bernie’s so desperate to spend some time with Serena - who was on night shifts - that she showered in less than four minutes, dressed in the dark and didn't even stop by Pulses to buy a much needed black coffee.

Well, she can always see how Serena's holding up, ask her if she wants a coffee and retrace her steps towards the small café all the while pretending that Serena's blindingly grateful smile doesn’t make her heart skip a bit or two. Or three. That woman was a hazard for her health.

With that plan firmly in mind, Bernie enters their office to find it dark, with the blinds closed. Turning towards the coat rack, she’s suddenly startled by a slightly hunched figure sitting on the floor, knees bent towards their chest, their arms around their legs.

“Want some?” Serena asks in a hoarse voice, brandishing a metal flask that Bernie recognizes all too well.

“It's not even seven o'clock, isn't it a bit early for Shiraz?” she enquires, bewildered.

Serena looks at her like she suddenly sprouted a second head, slapping the flask to her chest in an indignant manner.

“It's coffee! Even I have limits,” Serena pouts.

Bernie smiles.

“Where's your travel mug,” she inquires while putting her coat and handbag on the rack.

“I couldn't find it. Add that to the very long list of things that didn't go my way tonight.”

Her pout is even more pronounced, making Serena look adorable. Or so Bernie thinks with a chuckle.

“That bad?”

Serena lets out an overly dramatic sigh that makes Bernie's smile widen further.

“You have no idea...”

Judging that Serena will probably go on a somewhat lengthy rant, Bernie deems it wise to join her on the floor and sits next to her, her spine cracking in a symphony of protest that she prefers to ignore.

“Well, to begin with, I don't know why it's so difficult to find good agency nurses,” Serena proclaims with a dark knowing look and a small smile aimed at Bernie.

“Don't I know it? Most of them barely know a syringe from a catheter on a good day.”

That gets a short laugh out of Serena. 

“And then- then Mr. Reynolds, eighty-three years old Mr. Reynolds mind you, decided to take a stroll around the ward at eleven p.m., stark naked.”

At this Bernie's now well known honk is let loose before she regains control of it for fear of waking the still sleeping patients and attracting too much attention. She doesn't want Fletch to come and put an end to this lovely moment.

“You're kidding,” she exclaims, her eyes shining with mirth.

“I wish! He almost put me off men for good, let me tell you.”

This time Bernie's laugh is notably more strangled. As if she needed Serena to give even more substance to her daydreams and her, well, her nightdreams. She's only human after all and you can't stop being attracted to your very straight best friend simply by flipping a switch. She wishes it were that simple.

“After that,” Serena takes a fortifying swig before handing the flask to Bernie who takes it gratefully, “after that I had to take a young woman into theater. She's a cook and apparently her extremely sharp knife ripped on a bone and severed her left index finger right between the distal and middle phalanges. Poor thing was terrified of anything even remotely medical. Fletch and I had to spend over half an hour trying to calm and reassure her, which is, as you know, exhausting.”

Bernie nods in sympathy.

“So after two hours in theater, I was knackered but figured I could come here, have five minutes of shut eye in that very uncomfortable chair,” she says pointing to her desk chair, “and tackle some admin afterwards.”

The mere thought makes Bernie wince while looking at her own pile of files.

“Ha! Fat chance of that happening. I realised that with everything else, I had completely forgotten that Hansen had asked me to revise next month’s budget plan. And I - I was barely able to focus on it. You'd think I'd know how to handle some numbers what with the MBA and everything, but no, simple maths eluded me completely, and the words started to get all jumbled up in front of my eyes so I decided that I needed a break and some coffee.”

With that, she proceeded to take the flask back from Bernie. Shaking it to ascertain what was left of the precious liquid, she realised that it was empty.

“Oh great, now I'm out of coffee.”

Bernie couldn't help but snort.

“Oi! Careful,” warned Serena jokingly.

Bernie raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Tell you what, why don't I go to Pulses, buy two of the largest coffees I can find and pastries, because why not, then come back here and we'll have an improvised breakfast picnic?”

“Sounds perfect,” Serena answers dreamily.

“I'll be right back!”

She stands up, gets her purse and is out like a shot, leaving Serena looking after her with a soft smile.

  
  


A few minutes later, Bernie's back with all her precious gifts and she realises that Serena's been busy too. She rearranged the visitors’ chairs that she had pushed away to sit on the ground earlier, and found a couple of blankets to make their little picnic a bit more cozy.

Serena is already sitting on the furthest chair, half of the first blanket over her back and shoulders, and half of the other over her lap. She smiles at Bernie as she taps the chair next to her, holding the blankets open so that her friend can situate herself comfortably. Once they are both tucked in together, Bernie hands a cup and the cinnamon roll to Serena and keeps the other cup and the Danish for herself.

The way Serena hums after her first big gulp of coffee makes Bernie's shiver. A fact she tries to cover by tugging the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders and sipping generously on her own well-deserved coffee before taking a big bite out of her pastry.

They're both silent for a few moments, savouring the peacefulness and the much needed caffeine shot and sugar rush.

Relaxing completely, Serena does something she'd never have thought she'd do even a few weeks ago - she simply lays her head on Bernie's shoulder. She trusts Bernie, she likes Bernie. She might not be prepared to admit, even to herself, how much she likes her, but that doesn't mean they can't share the level of intimacy that comes with profound friendship.

Bernie tries not to react too much. Her first instinct is, of course, to get out - fast - and put some distance between the two of them, but she doesn't want to hurt Serena. So she stays, and she enjoys the closeness, telling herself that she can try not to fall in love with Serena later, when she doesn't feel this good. When she doesn't feel this happy.

Because right now, this moment feels too perfect to pass up.


	3. In the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been almost a month since Cameron’s incident. Or Camerongate as Fletch had gently dubbed it with a wink, seeing the tension between the two co-leads. Because, despite Serena’s understanding words that day, there is a certain strain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to Persiflage for their always efficient beta-reading. ;)
> 
> Yes, well this particular chapter wouldn't leave me alone as I was finally starting to fall asleep, so obviously, I had to get up and write some of the dialogue so I wouldn't forget it, and now here we are.

They’re all gathered at the nurses’ station, on what Bernie supposes is a normal day. Raf and Fletch are being their normal cheeky selves teasing each other and making their little group laugh. 

Even Serena is laughing, something that Bernie doesn’t see happen much these days when she’s around.

It’s been almost a month since Cameron’s incident. Or  _ Camerongate _ as Fletch had gently dubbed it with a wink, seeing the tension between the two co-leads. Because, despite Serena’s understanding words that day, there is a certain strain.

Oh, they work just as well as they did before, and they’re not biting each other’s heads off either, no more than usual anyway. Serena is still friendly with her, but she is guarded, she doesn’t open up to Bernie as much as she used to, and there is an unmistakable tension in the air as a result. An outsider wouldn’t probably even notice. But the team does. Bernie does.

And she knows it’s her fault. 

  
  


When Fletch and Raf are finally done with their antics, Serena leaves them with a falsely stern reminder that they should get back to work, and Bernie looks forlornly at her retreating figure.

“You should talk to her,” Raf prompts gently, and even without looking she can see Fletch is agreeing, and some would even say, enthusiastic nod.

“I know,” she says with a long and loud sigh. “How do I always get myself in those messes?”   
  
The question is rhetorical, but the ward manager takes it upon himself to reply anyway.

“Because you got so used to taking all the decisions in the army that you don’t know how to not do that here?”

“Hm,” is all she answers to that, her eyes unfocused. “If you’re looking for me, I’ll be on the roof.”

  
  


Half an hour later, she comes back on the ward, her jaw set and her shoulders squared. She has mulled over Fletch’s words while she was up there - as well the same thoughts that have been running round and round in her head - and now, the time has come to start making amends.

She enters the office looking much more confident than she actually feels, and closes the door firmly behind her.

“I think we need to talk,” she starts, hiding her hands in her scrubs’ pockets.

“What about,” Serena asks softly, her brow slightly frowned.

“Cameron.”

“Ah.”

Serena puts her pen on her desk, closes the panels of her cobalt shirt a bit and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Alright I’m listening,” she says. Though Bernie isn’t stupid, and she can easily observe that in this precise moment, everything in Serena screams that she doesn’t want to have that conversation. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to hear more of her co-lead’s feeble excuses.

“Not here. I was thinking we could find somewhere neutral and - and cosy,” she adds the last part as an afterthought, doesn’t even know why she said that, but now she’s actually thinking that a bit of cosiness might actually help the process.

“You have somewhere in mind, I take it.”

Serena doesn’t actually sigh but Bernie can hear it in her tone nonetheless.

“There’s a - a coffee shop on the outskirts of town, with a garden and everything. Cam says it’s -”

“Right,” and this time, the sigh is definitely there. “Is it open on Sundays?”

Bernie nods, “I checked.”

“Text me the address and the time, and I’ll be there. Not at the crack of dawn, mind you. Sundays are for laziness in my book.”

Bernie smiles, happy that she got Serena to agree.

  
  


Sunday is bright and sunny, a fact that Bernie is strangely thankful for. She figures everyone is always in a better mood when the sky is bright blue, and if there is one day that she needs Serena to be in a good mood, it’s definitely today.

She’s arrived a few minutes in advance, has already ordered two coffees and two pastries. Serena will probably see those more as a peace offering than as an automatic gesture of care and friendship, but Bernie doesn’t care as long as it helps mellow her co-lead a bit.

She’s waiting at a small table in a more secluded part of the garden Cameron had talked about so much and she had sent a text to Serena to warn her, so she wouldn’t have to wonder where she was.

When Serena does arrive, she stupidly half stands up before she remembers that she isn’t a gentleman in the olden days courting the woman he’d like to marry, though she figures she must be just as nervous, if not more.

Because she cares. She cares about Serena a lot, actually. Cares about Serena more and more with each passing minute. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she’s head over heels with Serena Wendy Campbell, with this truly brilliant and magnificent woman. But brilliant and magnificent though she is, she’s also very straight. A fact that never fails to make Bernie worry for her poor, battered heart.

But that’s a story for another day.

When and if she does manage the truly miraculous feat of having Serena forgive her.

“Thanks for coming,” she starts, pushing the coffee - strong and hot and black - and the pain au chocolat towards her friend.

Serena just smiles, and after briefly toasting with her paper cup as a thank you gesture, she takes a good long sip, swallows the warm and rich beverage and exhales slowly. When she’s done, she looks at Bernie head on, her eyes boring into hers, ready to listen. Or ready to snipe at Bernie, depending on whether she likes what she hears or not.

“This is the second time I’m apologizing to you over coffee.”

Bernie tries to joke, but it falls flat and Serena keeps staring at her, her face blank, not a smile on the horizon.

“Yes, and it’s also the second time you’ve lied to, or withheld the truth from me.”

So, it’s the sniping option Serena’s choosing , Bernie muses internally while she dips her head in shame.

“I’m sensing a pattern, here. A pattern that tells me that if I forgave you the first time, I’m not so sure I can forgive you this time. Because if I do, what tells me you’re not going to lie to me a third time? Or a fourth?”

At those words, Bernie, who’s been leaning with her elbows on the table, puts some distance between her and Serena and slouches in her chair defeatedly.

“Everything is new for me still,” she starts explaining in a low, tired voice. “New job, new colleagues, new family and marital situations. New Bernie. I literally got blown into all this. Things I never really wanted, or things I never admitted to myself that I wanted and it’s hard.

Serena opens her mouth to say something but Bernie stops with a placating hand.

“I’m learning new things about life and about myself, something I never thought I would have to do at over fifty, and I’m having a hard time trusting people in general with this new me. I’ve never been so out - no pun intended - in the open before, so vulnerable. So with Cam, when he appeared after weeks of hurting from missing my children so much, I acted on instinct, and I closed up.”

“Not an excuse,” Serena retorts with a disappointed frown. “I’ve never given you any cause to distrust me, to barricade yourself up when I’m around you.”

“I know.”

“I’ve opened myself up to you, without reserve, from the very beginning; and yet your first instinct, as a thank you, is to do the exact opposite?”

“I know.”

Things really are taking a turn for the worse and Bernie doesn’t know what to say.

“Having difficulties adjusting to your new life - which is completely understandable - isn’t a good enough reason to treat people like shit, to treat  _ me _ like shit. I’ve had enough of that from other people, Edward chief among them, I don’t need that from you.”

Both women choose not to react at the probably very telling parallel Serena just made.

Serena, who until then had been gulping her coffee and angrily shredding her pastry apart, momentarily considers getting up and leaving Bernie to stew in the mess she’s created. But she can’t leave her, can’t leave their relationship - their work relationship or their friendship - behind. She doesn’t have the strength. Bernie means too much to her. 

Much more than she’s supposed to, considering they’re only friends. In fact, she has taken such an importance in Serena’s life that she is considering being more than friends with her, being more than friends with a woman, for the first time in her life.

Which is the precise reason she’s so hurt by the fact that Bernie lied to her, again.

“I never meant to treat you like - like shit. I wanted to protect my son. I was never there to do that before.”

_ And of course she has to go right for the heart with a statement like that _ , Serena thinks.

“You know that protecting your child doesn’t necessarily mean -”

“That I should trample over everything and everyone to do so.”

“Exactly.”

Bernie’s head falls backwards, as if made too heavy with all the thoughts swirling around.

“Will I ever get anything right?”

“You get a lot of things right in theater. And with Jason.” That last part makes Bernie smile a little.

“But I get everything wrong outside of that.”

“And you will continue to do so if you don’t let people in.”

With a surge, Bernie leans once more on the table, hands flat on the surface.

“Will you help me? Will you - will you forgive me?”

Swallowing the last drops of her coffee, Serena contemplates the woman facing her for a long moment.

She’s already stated that she could not, would not choose a life without Bernie in it, in any capacity. 

“You really hurt me,” she says, her anger slowly abating. “I’m tired of being hurt by people I care about.”

“I promise you - Serena, look at me,” her hazel eyes meet Bernie’s and they are glistening with unshed tears which only strengthens Bernie’s resolve. “I promise you, I won’t let you down, ever again.”

Their gazes stay locked for a while and Bernie reaches out a hand, giving Serena the choice to take it or not. When she does, a sound between a laugh and a sob finds its way out of her and looking through her fringe, she smiles at Serena.

“Thank you.” The relief is palpable in her tone.

“Please, Bernie. Please don’t -”

She doesn’t let her finish her phrase. She takes her metal chair and slides it noisily across the floor, bringing her as close to Serena as possible. She puts an arm across Serena’s shoulders, and rests their heads together.

“Never again.”

Satisfied with the sincerity of Bernie’s promise, she sags against her and they stay in this open embrace for a while, basking in the restored peacefulness.


	4. A story for another time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I told you it would be a story for another time, I didn’t think the story would actually appear on our front step.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to Persiflage for their beta-reading.

Holding her newly acquired cup of coffee close to her chest, Serena trudges slowly back towards AAU. To say she's exhausted would be grossly understating the level of bone-crushing fatigue she was crumbling under.

The Christmas period is always a nightmare with its unrelenting flow of slip-ups on the ice or mishaps in the kitchen resulting respectively in broken bones, bruised egos or stitches and bandages that made for grumpy hosts only seeing the problems those were going to create for the perfect meal they were in the process of preparing.

And then, of course, there's always the usual bouts of RTC because of snow, or alcohol- or even a combination of the two.

In other words, she can't wait to be home, in front of a roaring fire, preferably with a glass of Shiraz, but a tea or a hot chocolate would do just as nicely after the week she's had. Well, the week they've all had, if she's honest. Everybody, in this hospital in general, and on AAU in particular has made sacrifices so they wouldn't be submerged by the sheer quantity of patients. 

Just as she's about to badge in on the ward, she spies a very familiar figure through the small window of one of the doors.

Edward Campbell, was casually leaning on the nurses' station, probably trying to chat up the poor unsuspecting woman sitting there.

“Bloody hell,” she mumbles. “Just what I need...”

Normally she wouldn't hesitate to go in there and give him a piece of her mind before asking him as politely as she could to F.O.H.

Today though... 

_ Today I'm not in the mood _ , she thinks, pacing in front of the doors. 

She's almost fuming really, can't this waste of a man leave her alone for one bloody second? Smoke is almost coming out of her ears when she realises that Bernie is standing right behind her.

“What's going on,” she asks softly, slipping her hands in her scrubs' pockets.

Serena can see by the look on her face that she knows something is definitely afoot.

Just as she's about to answer, Serena sees Edward is moving and whether he has spotted her or not, she doesn't wait to find out and reacts on instincts; she grabs Bernie's hand and drags her in the nearest room she can find, a supply closet.

_ Not cliché at all _ , Serena observes wryly.

She gets them both inside and closes the door swiftly and firmly behind them, letting her back rest against it. 

Looking at her friend, the thought of explaining her behaviour crosses her mind, but she needs a minute to calm down first. And anyway, she knows Bernie won't press her to talk if she doesn't feel like it. 

She loves that Bernie seems to instinctively understand her, loves that quiet presence that doesn't ask for anything in return, even though Serena would gladly give her all she wants.

  
  


And so, after a minute or two of silence, Serena rewards Bernie's patience.

“Edward's in there,” she explains, with a nod towards the ward.

“Ah.”

They exchange a look of grim understanding; ex-husbands are no fun at all.

“So, how come you're not out there ripping his – head - off?”

“Doesn't appeal to me today,” she shrugs before taking a sip of her now just warm coffee.

That statement does worry Bernie a bit, if the frown that now colors her face is anything to go by. 

“I know, I never usually pass up the chance to show Edward just what a shitty specimen of a man he is, but -” she trails off with another shrug, this one even more blasé than the first.

“What if it's about Elinor?”

At that, Serena snorts.

“Believe me, if it was about Elinor, he wouldn't be here. He would send me a vague and disdainful text at least two days after the fact, just so he can rub it in my face that I'm never there when my daughter needs me.”

Bernie's wince is met with a tired smile. 

“I know thirteen ways to kill a man with my bare hands, if you think it could help.” 

Serena can't help but let her brightest smile take over her face. Bernie looks so adorable with her hands still in her scrub pockets and her lips curled in a grin. She still looks a bit nervous though, slightly bouncing on the balls of her feet as if she wanted to do something but wasn't sure if it was the right or not.

“What is it?” Serena asks.

“I – well,” she shakes her fringe away from her eyes, “would you like – you look like you could use a hug.”

“I most certainly could. If you're offering”, she states with a flirtatious smile.

“I am. Well I figured that it'd be easier than going to jail for getting rid of the creep over there. And I heard that a hug has apparently very good properties when it comes to helping someone feel better.”

“I heard that too,” Serena confirms with an amused nod. 

“Ok, well I – How -”

Seeing Bernie take a fortifying breath reminds Serena that her friend isn't like her. She doesn't thrive on human contact and even shies away from it most of the time.

“You don't have to -” but she can't go any further because Bernie has launched herself at Serena without any more preamble.

Since Bernie doesn't know how to do those things, being physical, she lacks the finesse and carefulness that comes with the concept. As a result, not only does she surprise her friend with the involuntary suddenness and brusqueness of her gesture, but she also comes this close to breaking her best friend’s neck.

A fact that prompts a gargled sound from Serena's mouth before she comes back to her senses and manages to string a full sentence.

“Uh, I think we might both be covered in coffee, now.”

Realising her mistake, Bernie hastily releases Serena and takes two full steps back. 

They both look at each other, their respective fronts covered in the brown liquid, thankfully barely lukewarm at this point.

“Shit,” Bernie mutters.

“Well, it looks that on top of everything I'll have to wear scrubs for the rest of the day.”

“Shit,” she reiterates with more strength. “I'm so sorry, Serena, I - shit!”

“Yes, you've said that already.”

Her exhaustion and Bernie's face make Serena think that this situation is really funny and she starts to laugh uncontrollably. Still holding the now empty and crushed paper cup, she puts an arm around her belly and bends forward, shaking and shaking with gales of laughter.

Even mortified as she is to have made such a complete fool or herself, Bernie seems to be glad she has at least managed to have Serena release some tension, maybe even all of it by the looks of her. And so, instead of trying to calm her down, she lets Serena laugh to her heart's content, enjoying the sound and the view with a tender smile. 

Serena keeps laughing and laughing, to the point that she almost stumbles to the ground. In two long steps Bernie is in front of her lending a helping hand to keep her upright.

Without thinking, Serena entangles her fingers with Bernie's and the warm contact seems to sober her up instantly. With eyes still moist with joyous tears, she looks at Bernie whose gaze is equally full of wonder and shock at the realisation that something that they have both secretly wanted for a while now, might finally be happening. 

Seemingly out of their own volition, their faces inch slowly closer and their eyes focus on the other’s lips

_ Does she want to kiss me too _ , both wonder at the same time. She can't possibly-

Suddenly, a brusque knocking at the door makes them jump out of their skin. 

Blushing lightly Serena brings a hand to her heart as if that movement alone is going to quiet the thundering in her chest.

“Serena, I know you're in there!” 

A loud statement that makes Serena's teeth grind.

“He's never been one for discretion,” she mocks with a roll of her eyes.

When Edward bangs on the door a second time, Serena inhales deeply, squares her shoulders and dramatically opens it. The displaced air makes her blouse float around her hips and her hair flutter on her forehead.

Her eyes are full of fury and fearing for his life, Edward hastily scrambles backwards. 

“What?” She all but growls.

Bernie can't help but chuckle at the vision. She doesn't even bother to hide that chuckle in a cough when the vexed man sends her a disapproving glare. 

Not to mention the fact that this whole scene, although a pain for Serena, is giving her time to try and process what almost happened.

“Who is that?” he asks, trying to distract Serena.

“None of your business.”

“And why were the two of you hiding, in a supply closet of all places and covered in – what is that, coffee?”

“Again, none of your business,” she affirms while pushing past him, Bernie on her heels.

The two women walk briskly, and Edward has to half walk/half run next to them, making him look like an over-enthusiastic puppy that just wants you to throw his ball.

Serena enters the scrub room first. Bernie follows her quietly but not before sending a hard glare towards Edward, signifying him that entering a room where two women are going to get changed could cause him severe and irreversible harm. 

When the door is firmly closed behind them, Serena turns back towards Bernie, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her forehead, trying in vain to prevent the migraine already forming behind it.

“Look, I know something almost happened back there, and I know that we need to talk about it -”

Bernie isn’t surprised by the fact that her friend doesn’t even try to ignore the moment they just had. It’s not how Serena works.

“But it’ll have to wait?”

Serena’s shoulders fall a bit.

“Yes, I’m sorry. But -”

“You can’t have that conversation with your ex-husband around?”

“No,” she replies with a small voice, and Bernie nods in understanding. “God, what was I thinking when I married him?”

“Were you,” Bernie asks with a friendly smirk.

“What?” 

Serena looks confused, so Bernie explains herself a bit more.

“Were you thinking when you married him?”

And this time, Bernie is almost shocked by the words coming out of Serena’s mouth.

“I was actually.” Her tone is sad. “I didn’t stop thinking about what marrying Edward would be like from the moment he got down on one knee to the moment I divorced him.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t -”

“I know,” Serena interrupts her while grabbing a pair of light teal scrubs she hates so much. “It’s just -” she sighs, “I always knew marrying him was a bad idea. But I wanted a family. And I wanted to recreate the perfect love my parents had. All the wrong reasons for marrying someone, or marrying him at least.”

After that confession, it seems she doesn’t have the energy for more words. She just angrily puts her scrubs on, Bernie doing the same a few paces behind her, with her back turned.

  
  


When they get out of the room, Serena decides that Edward deserves to be ignored until she has a brand new cup of scalding hot coffee in her hands. She grabs Bernie’s elbow just to make sure she follows her.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Well, I need another coffee obviously,” Serena says as if she was talking to a very unfocused five year old.

“Oh, perfect!” Edward says with a happy chuckle before adding; “You’re always full of great ideas,” but the compliment sounds a little too sweet to be true.

A fact that makes Serena more and more suspicious of her ex-husband’s presence in her hospital.

A suspicion that reaches even higher levels when Edward gallantly offers to pay for their coffees, while also getting himself one in the process of course.

“So, why are you here,” Serena asks as calmly as she can when they’re all standing, hot beverages in hand, on one side of the ambulance bay. “And why are you following me around?”

“What, can’t a guy just want to talk to his wife,” he tries to counter with his falsely and sickly seductive grin.

“Oh, here we are,” Serena sing-songs, crossing her arms in front of her, still mindful of her mostly full paper cup. “One, I’m very happy to inform you that I haven’t been your wife for thirteen years now. And two, you only remembered that I was your wife when you were in trouble. So what is it this time, Edward?” The level of disdain in the question almost makes it sound like hate. “Have you killed yet another patient?”

She throws the question as a sarcastic dig but visibly and instantly pales when she sees Edward look around with wild, nervous eyes as if he was trying to ascertain how many people had heard her.

“Oh my God, Edward, tell me you haven’t.” Serena’s tone is between a sadly astonished whisper and an angry and disgusted scream.

Rather than answering he turns to Bernie - who was, until a few seconds ago, slightly uncomfortable but is now completely angry - and scornfully orders her to leave them alone. 

“I’d like to have a private conversation with -”

They both interrupt him at the same time.

“I’m fine right here.”

“Bernie’s not going anywhere.”

“So there is something going on between the two of you.”

“Don’t you dare try to divert the conversation.” Serena counters angrily advancing on him, forcing him once more to take a step backwards. “You killed another patient.”

He doesn’t even hang his head in shame, tries instead to defend himself. It wasn’t his fault, he doesn’t know what happened, he hadn’t even drunk that much, surely, he doesn’t deserve being barred from practising, and deserves even less the jail time he’s facing.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Serena says, contemplating her daughter’s father.

“And if there’s an inquest going on, I don’t believe you should be hearing any more of this,” Bernie says

Bravely, but also instinctively, she takes Serena’s hand and drags her away from Edward. A very simple task since Serena doesn’t offer any resistance and even tangles her hand a little more tightly with Bernie’s.

“But I need your help,” he pleads miserably.

Serena turns on him at once. 

“You only need me when you’re in trouble. You only need me when the utter coward that you are can’t face the consequences of his actions. You only need me when you have messes to clean up. You only need me when our daughter needs money and your addictions have caused you to spend all of yours.”

Having no more to say to this sorry excuse of a man, and an even sorrier excuse of a doctor, she turns back towards Bernie.

“Let’s go.”

“You can’t leave me like that,” Edward complains angrily.

“Go fuck yourself,” Serena without even looking at him, and Bernie would have smiled in the situation wasn’t so dramatic.

That’s why she decides that instead of going back to the ward right away, they’re going to make a detour by the Legal Service offices, so that they can offer a statement and cover all their bases.

  
  


Afterwards, in the lift, Serena is slumped against the back wall, her eyes looking at the metal doors, unseeing.

“When I told you it would be a story for another time, I didn’t think the story would actually appear on our front step.”

Bernie approaches Serena and mirrors her position before she’s even thought about it and soon they’re touching from hips to shoulders. They stay silent as the lift slowly descends. 

Serena replays today’s events in her head, over and over, memories from her previous life with Edward merging with his reluctant and absolutely horrid confession.

Bernie mulls over what she could say to Serena to try and make her feel at least a tiny bit better. The only words that come though are inanities, stuff people always tell you when they mistake your need for comfort with their need for importance.

So again, before the lift arrives at its destination and she loses whatever courage is left that seems to be animating her today, she plants herself in front of Serena and gathers her in her arms, holding her head gently beneath her chin.

She tries to give her friend as much of her strength and affection - love - as she can.

Serena’s arms feel heavy when she puts them around Bernie’s waist. Heavy with anger and sadness, two feelings she always associates with her daughter’s father and the disappointment he always brings with him.

“I’ll be okay,” she murmurs in Bernie’s neck. 

And she will be. She doesn’t cry over his inadequacies anymore, and hasn't for a long time. She’ll just do what she usually does, she’ll ignore him and try to protect their daughter from the worst of it, whether Elinor likes it or not, whether Elinor is grateful or not.

“I’ll be okay,” she repeats with more strength, and Bernie must believe her this because she slowly - and reluctantly - releases her.

They look at each other for a moment, and smile when once again, eyes flitter briefly to enticing lips, but as the doors open both know that this particular thing between them is also, as they say, a story for another time. And a much better one.


End file.
